Bacon, Eggs and Aspirin
by Shipperwolf
Summary: One late night Lincoln and Sara come to a hilarious realization. Michael and alcohol dont mix. No Spoiler Warnings, just pure stupidity!


More funny-ness for you all while I try desperately to finish The Challenge. It should be done soon. Thanks again to all who read and review!!

I Own? No. I Own Not.

* * *

His head buzzed with alcohol.

The pillow beneath his shaven head felt cool and relaxing, a perfect end to a nice night of celebrating the one-year anniversary of complete freedom.

He knew how he was when he got drunk: lots of laughing, profanity, and just showing his ass in general. Good thing they decided to just make it a small family party at home. However, despite the fuzzy eyesight and lack of energy, he felt rather rational, he thought. But then again, he always could hold his alcohol well.

Unlike his brother, whom he guessed was, at this exact moment, either puking his guts up in the bathroom, or falling over his own feet, or maybe even….

"LINCOLN!!!!!" The sound of Sara's shout interrupted his thoughts….if they could even be called that.

A slight jolt of pain hit his head at the volume of her voice. She was only down the hall, not ten steps away.

"LINC!" Her voice came higher this time.

Frustrated he finally answered, "WHAT!"

"COME HERE!"

No….God…no, he had just gotten comfortable.

Did he have to?

Was it an emergency?

"WHY?"

"JUST COME HERE!"

Why did she sound so muffled?

Sara hadn't really drank much during their little celebration, maybe three beers tops, despite his attempt at persuading her to loosen up. He really didn't think a few more beers would have the woman injecting morphine and trying to jump off the roof.

But noooo…..she had to be paranoid…

"SARA, I'M TIRED! I'M DRUNK! I WANNA SLEEP! WHAT IS IT?"

Silence followed. Good, he was getting tired of all the damned shouting.

"LINC!!!!!"

"WHAT? GOD, JUST COME IN HERE AND TELL ME!"

"I CAN'T!"

"WHY?"

"MICHAEL'S PINNING ME DOWN! I CAN'T MOVE! I CAN'T BREATHE!"

What the hell?

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S PINNING YOU DOWN? HE CAN'T BE THAT DRUNK!"

"UH, YEAH HE CAN! HE JUST PASSED OUT ON ME..LITERALLY!"

Oh, good God above….he didn't….please say he didn't….

"LINCOLN, HE PASSED OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF SEX, OKAY? NOW GET IN HERE AND DRAG HIM OFF ME!"

Good Lord, he DID….

* * *

It was nearing noon when Lincoln looked up from his late breakfast to see Michael trudging into the living room.

"Morning."

He grinned at the sight of a hungover Michael.

The two terms were very prossibly oxymorons…..wait…how did he even know what an oxymoron was??? He needed to stop hanging around his genius brother before he started actually learning.

"Morning Mike…sleep okay?" Lincoln willed himself not to laugh….or blurt out 'DUDE, I had to pull your unconscious NAKED body off of Sara last night!'

"Uhhh, yeah, I guess. Can't remember. In fact, I can't remember anything past my eighth beer. Shut up…I know….lightweight…where's Sara?"

His speech slurred slightly and this time Lincoln couldn't help but chuckle.

"Kitchen, fixing some break---lun----brunch."

Sara entered on cue, two plates in tow.

"Michael, how are you feeling?"

"Uhn."

Sara blinked, and tried to hide her smile.

"That bad huh?"

"Uh-huh."

A mock-look of sympathy formed on her face, and she shot a glance to Lincoln. The two kept eye-contact for a few seconds, recalling the previous night and its hilarious mishap. Lincoln couldn't contain it. He burst into a fit of laughter. Sara tried desperately not to join him.

Obviously confused Michael jerked his head from one person to the other.

"What's funny?"

Lincoln only continued in his over-dramatic giggle-fit.

"What's funny??" His voice did not rise, but the inflection of curiosity and fear could be heard.

Sara ignored her brother-in-law's loud laughter and strode towards her husband. Handing Michael a plate, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and smiled.

"Nothing hun, trust me. Here, have the classic Sara Tancredi-Scofeild Hangover Cure: bacon, eggs and aspirin."

Michael complied and with a returned smile went to sit with his wife in the kitchen, and the two ate in silence, blocking out the STILL laughing Lincoln in the living room.

It would be another year before Michael would find out what the hell was so funny that made Linc laugh for twenty minutes straight.


End file.
